Little Wolf
by mamaduck1870
Summary: The one in which wolves and lions are civil torward each other. Sansa/Tywin - first GoT fic!
1. Little Wolf

_Author's_ _Note :_

 _This is my first fanfiction for Game of Thrones. Remember how Sansa was being belittled and yelled at by Joffrey and Tyrion saved her? Well, what if it happened again, with just Joffrey and Ser Meryn? But this time Tywin saves her. I feel_ _like Sansa was always underestimated on the show and I wanted to change that in this story. Please review and I will be posting a part two shortly._

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 _"...for your brothers latest treasons..."_

 _"…I beg you please…"_

 _"Ser Meryn, leave her face I like her pretty."_

 _"What is the meaning of this?"_

The memory of her last session with Joffrey runs through her mind.

She had been summoned once again. Once again the torture toy for Joffrey, once again no one to save her.

Sansa walked with the Kingsguard to the throne room, where Joffrey would no doubt bestow more pain and suffering on her. Her brother was a traitor and even though Joffrey had now been promised to Lady Margarey, Sansa was still the play thing. She was the thing that nobody wanted so she was what was most disposable and would go unnoticed the easiest.

Once arrived, she noted that Ser Meryn looked as though he couldn't wait to destroy what was left of Sansa. He was practically foaming at the mouth.

Bowing to him, "Your Grace."

"Ah yes, Lady Sansa, it's about time you arrived. Ser Meryn has been given a new weapon and I thought what better way to test it out than by using it on you!"

Sansa held her breath and held her tears. She was tired of crying in front of this half twit.

"I will do whatever you need me to Your Grace."

"Yes of course you will! Because the King may and will do what he likes!"

Sansa doesn't shake at his raised voice anymore, she's grown far too used to it. Instead she watches as he gets more and more frustrated, beginning to see the temper tantrum child through the title of King. Joffrey rises from the throne and paces a few feet before continuing,

"Ser Meryn has a new bludgeon, isn't that exciting? I gave it to him last evening for all of his marvelous work in protecting me. Part of his gift is you. Now you mustn't let me down, he and I both have been looking forward to this all day."

Sansa keeps her blank face - showing no emotion, "Yes, Your Grace."

His white cloak doesn't suit him, its much too dapper of a color for such a cruel man. Her head is hurting and her stomach is twisting into knots - just because Sansa doesn't show her emotions doesn't mean she's not feeling them.

"Go Ser Meryn, use her as you wish!"

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Ser Meryn walks until he is directly in front of Sansa, her steely eyed gaze not changing for this useless puppet before her.

Immediately, he raises the leather wrapped wooden bludgeon and brings it down on Sansa's shoulder. She cries out in pain despite her best efforts to stay strong and silent and hunches over from the hit.

Joffrey is clapping and laughing, "Again, again!"

He is a boy made of evil and ash and pain. She fully knows it. They all do, they just won't admit it.

While still hunched over, Meryn hits her back again and again and again, three blows to her spine before she collapses onto the floor, tears streaming down her face. Ser Meryn laughs and kicks her with his leather boot until she rolls over onto her back,

"The weapon is of great quality, Your Grace. I thank you for it. May I continue?"

Joffrey nods, eagerly awaiting where Ser Meryn will land his next injury on Sansa. Pulling strength from a source she didn't know she had, Sansa rises and stands in front of Ser Meryn. She may have been a fool and share blood with traitors, but she is no doormat. She is a wolf. A direwolf.

The bludgeon rises and falls down on her thigh, she screams, but remains standing as the bludgeon is raised again. Before the next blow is landed, however, a thundering voice interrupts -

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Not knowing who was yelling and at this point not caring, Sansa is grateful for the pause in this torture round.

"Grandfather, I am doing what I like because I am the King."

Joffrey's voice is calm from his seat as it dawns on Sansa, Tywin Lannister, and members of his guard had interrupted them. Tywin did not come across as the type who would mercilessly beat women for sport, so she allowed herself to feel safe if only for a moment. Tywin is standing beside her, glancing at her, then looking back to Joffrey,

"So this is what you like?! Torturing and beating young women?! King you may be, but you are also a Lannister and Lannisters do not beat women!"

"I could have your head for saying that to me!"

Tywin climbs the steps to the throne, leaning down close into Joffrey's face, then says in a gravely soft tone,

"You could, but you won't."

Though Joffrey was King, the look in the eyes of Tywin Lannister when he spoke those words almost made Joffrey wet himself. Joffrey knew his grandfather and he knew his grandfather was right. He was the most powerful of all the Lannisters and that made him the most valuable.

Descending down the stairs, Tywin continued,

"Your Grace, it is apparent that you have far more important tasks that demand your attention. I will be watching over Sansa Stark from now on, ensuring that she does not become a problem for you ever again."

Tywin motions to a member of his guard,

"You, kill Ser Meryn."

"Grandfather he is of my Kings guard! He is here to protect me, you cannot kill him!"

"Your Grace, we have much more suitable men to protect you and to be on your guard. Ser Meryn is no longer fit to best serve you. He will be put to death immediately."

Joffrey is seething, but deep down even he knows theres no winning a fight against Tywin Lannister. Tywin's guard member crosses the room and slits Ser Meryn's throat, instantly killing him.

Joffrey storms out of the throne room, not caring about the mess he's leaving behind him.

"Get rid of his body and leave us. Now."

The guardsmen collect Ser Meryn's body and leave Sansa and Tywin together in the throne room.

Sansa stares at the floor, not having very much interaction with Tywin she doesn't quite know what to do.

Tywin moves to standing right in front of her and he hates the involuntary flinch he sees her make,

"I'm not going to hurt you Sasna. I apologize for my grandson and his behavior. I would like to tend to your wounds and ensure your safety, if you would let me."

Sansa looks up at him, asking a question much more daring than she feels,

"Should I trust you, My Lord Hand?"

Tywin smirks, admiring the stones this young woman clearly has. Injured, distraught, overwhelmed, yes. But she was no fool. Not anymore.

"I will never hurt you nor would I ever intentionally put you in harms way. If you cannot trust someone who can promise that, who can you trust?"

Riddles were making her head spin and riddles with questions were only making it worse. Sansa nods at Tywin and felt her legs give out underneath her. She lands, her knees meeting the stone floor hard and unforgiving. It shouldn't have surprised Tywin that her body gave way, but it did.

He follows her to the floor and instead of helping her stand, he picks her up entirely. She's far lighter than he had expected, weighing barely anything at all. One arm around her shoulders and one under her knees, he walks them out of the throne room and away from the carnage. Sansa's head lies on his shoulder as she's unable to find the strength to hold it up anymore.

Tywin takes her to his chambers and pushes the door closed behind him with his booted foot. He lies her down on the bed and steps out of the room, telling a member of his guard to gather the items he was sure he would need. If she needed more medical attention than what he would give to soldiers on the field he would call a Maester. Until then, Tywin wanted to keep this quiet. The poor woman had been through enough and he felt badly that it had happened at the hands of his grandson.

Returning into the room and closing the door,

"How are you feeling Sansa?"

She doesn't know how to say, 'I feel like shit because your demonic grandson had his guard beat the shit out of me.' So she pauses to try to fight the right words.

"My Lord Hand, I-"

"Sansa, this is not a formal circumstance, you should call me Tywin. And don't try to answer that question with what you think I want to hear, just answer it honestly."

She clears her throat and prays to the Seven he won't harm her for this,

"I feel awful Tywin. I feel absolutely exhausted and everything hurts and I'm embarrassed and I'm tired of being the torture play thing for King Joffrey. Doesn't he have Lady Margarey for that now? When will he leave me alone?"

As soon as the words leather mouth her face turns a blush color-but not from embarrassment. Her color rose because of anger. Sansa is tired of having to be pushed around from one Lannister to another in the chess game that she didn't seem to be able to win. Tywin asked for honesty and she gave it.

Tywin smirks, once again impressed,

"I must say Sansa, I appreciate your honesty. I'm afraid Joffrey won't ever leave you alone though, not until you're wed and even then he would only lessen what he would do. But he won't ever leave you be."

The knock on the door reveals the medical items have arrived and locking the door behind him Tywin walks to the bedside then continues,

"Now, I'm assuming you would rather not have Grand Maester Pycell look you over?"

Sansa nods.

"Then I will be the one to bandage you. I need you to remove your clothes."

He gets straight to the point but his tone is calm and oddly comforting to Sansa for some reason. She winces at trying to sit up, so Tywin leans down and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her up and forward until she is able to slide her legs over the bed to stand.

It dawns on Tywin that she won't be able to do any of this on her own, so he helps her stand and then turns her around to unfasten her gown.

"I apologize for not being able to be of more help Tywin."

He disregards her apology,

"You have done nothing of which you need to apologize for. The dressmakers, however, will need to apologize for putting so many fasteners on this gown."

His comment makes her giggle and Sansa can't remember the last time she giggled when she truly meant it. It felt nice in the same way that saying 'Tywin' felt nice - new, refreshing, and oddly comforting.

Once the dress is unfastened, Tywin pushes it forward and down her shoulders and pulls her slip up and over her head. Sansa is left in her small clothes and now they've arrived at the point of no return.

All of her injuries, both old and new, are on display and are shouting in the silent room. She can't hide from Tywin for her injuries speak for themselves. Bruises of purple, black, blue and healing yellow green cover her back and spine, there are more wrapped around her kidneys and thighs. She has bleeding wounds from where the bludgeon landed on her spine repeatedly and pulled her skin open.

Her left shoulder is bleeding and is already swollen while her arms are varying shades of the night skies.

Tywin is surprised. For all of Joffrey's torture, Sansa carried herself well and never did anything to make someone believe that she was this badly hurt. She knew how to hide herself and how to hide herself well. He is also surprised at how thin she is. Tywin can clearly see every vertebrae in her spine and her tailbone must make sitting for long periods uncomfortable.

"Turn around."

His voice softly commanding, Sansa turns and her front is more of the same. Dark colors and abrasions run from her collarbones to her hips, then continue to her legs. Her hip bones are jutting out from her small clothes and he can count her ribs easily. Her thighs are lean and her stomach is as flat as a board. Her knees bleeding and her hands shaking, Tywin fully takes in the woman before him. For that's what she is, that's what this life has made her - a woman. Sansa Stark is no little girl.

Grasping the cloth from the bowl of warm water, Tywin rings out the excess and begins to clean away the blood from her body and tenderly goes over her bruises. Sansa slowly begins to cry as silently as she can, it has been so long since any kindness was shown to her and now it has come from the most surprising of sources. Never in her lifetime did she imagine Tywin Lannister taking any sort of care of her.

He motions for her to turn around and he continues the same gentle care on that side as well. Her spine and shoulder are the worst of the injuries. Taking the healing salve, he covers the wounds on her spine and hears her hiss in pain. The salve works but it always stings like hell.

"I know it stings but it works. It will heal your wounds quickly."

Sansa nods and Tywin continues. Once the salve has been applied, he places and secures bandages where needed and does the same to her shoulder and knees.

"Do you have something more comfortable to wear?"

Sansa nods and begins to walk to get it - but is stopped in her motion,

"Tell me where it is."

"Bottom drawer, far left. Dark grey."

It felt odd to be telling Tywin Lannister what to do but then again it felt odd to be tortured.

Tywin finds the gown she's referring to, it's of a comfortable cloth that he can tell has been worn many times.

Returning to her, Tywin now sees the tears she's silently been shedding for what he assumes was the duration of his tending to her. Holding the gown in one hand and looking her in the eyes, he gently puts his arms around her and pulls her into his chest. He imagines that the last time Sansa was given true love and respect was so long ago that he had bigger things to worry about than the Starks.

Sansa wraps her arms around Tywin and fists his shirt in her hands.

She doesn't care. She doesn't care in this moment what Tywin thinks of her. Sansa doesn't care about anything in this moment other than how truly nice it feels to be held by someone who isn't trying to kill her or bed her. She will cling to this moment for as long as she can because she doesn't know if she'll get a moment this comforting again for a long time.

Her tears are putting a puddle into his shirt and she's starting to shiver. With hardly any meat on her bones it's no wonder she always seems to be cold. He truly feels bad for her though, he wants to make her time here more enjoyable. Where this thought process is coming from he has no idea, but it's gnawing at him to help her.

Tywin pulls away from her reluctantly and cups her face in his hands to wipe away her tears. She offers him a small smile that is returned as he helps dress her. He takes extra caution with the shoulder that should have never been injured in the first place - along with the rest of her injuries.

Her legs are getting shaky from standing for too long and he helps guide her to his bed,

"Should I return to my own chambers Tywin?"

"I do not think that would be wise at this time. I want to keep you as safe as possible so I think it best you stay here."

What Tywin really wanted to say was that he had more people that needed to be killed for what they had done to her before he would let her out of his sight. But that was something he would handle and she needn't worry about more death and pain.

Sansa nods as Tywin helps get her comfortably into bed,

"Now, you rest here. The guards will be at the door and I'll be the only one allowed in, unless you request someone. Alright?"

Sansa nods and opens her mouth to speak, but shuts it.

"What is it?"

She can't answer him. She can't tell him what she wants him to do to her, so she does it herself. She slowly leans up and kisses him on the lips. Sansa is surprised to find that regardless of the harsh words he barks on a daily basis, his lips are soft and smooth. She lingers there a moment and then Tywin returns her kiss. He leans down closer to Sansa and deepens the kiss, tongues gently dueling for dominance before each breaking apart.

Tywin is surprised at the little wolf in his bed. He supposes she'll apologize for what she's done now that it's over, but she only looks at him with romantic eyes and blushes. He kisses heron the forehead and makes sure she's comfortable, then rises to leave,

"Rest well little wolf."

She nods and Tywin leaves, telling the guards once he's shuttle door behind him,

"Nobody and I mean nobody in that room unless it is I or someone Lady Stark has requested herself. If those orders are not followed your punishment will be immediate death. Is that understood?"

A choir of 'Yes My Lord' is heard, then Tywin heads back to the Tower of the Hand. It seems as though he has a lot more work to do - and most of it for a little wolf.

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Please review! :)


	2. Roaring Lion

_Author's Note:_

 _I had originally intended for this to be the final part to this story, but the more I wrote it the more it seemed it needed to be split into three pieces. I hope you don't mind. :) Thank you for the reviews, keep them coming!_

 _When the next chapter is posted the rating on this story will change to M, so keep that in mind in your filter search._

 _Enjoy!_

 _Rating: Strong T_

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Tywin can't breathe. The rage coursing through him will be the fuel for the marathon of fury he is about to share with all of the lowlifes that have let Sansa's torture go on. Almost running down the cold, hallow, stone hall it dawns on him - why is he so angry at this? The Stark girl may be the key to the North, but the disdain he's feeling is too much for someone hurting a potential political pawn.

Tywin stops suddenly, catching his breath and thinks.

Sansa Stark is the key to the North. She is beautiful. She is smart. She is in his bed. She is in his bed and no one knows she's there. She is a beautiful woman that is in his bed. A beautiful woman that he could kiss and -

'Easy there old man, you need your head clear.'

Rubbing his face with his hand he remembers that Lady Margarey is set to be Queen now. Which leaves Sansa without husband and the North unsecured by the Lannisters. The only reputable suitor Sansa may have had would have been Tyrion - but they cannot marry.

Any chance of a future heir being stunted like Tyrion wouldn't do. No, it wouldn't do well for the Lannister name to have two monsters at all. Then that only leaves Tywin.

Tywin will marry Sansa - he can protect her from Joffrey and secure the North. As well as get an heir, but that thought can be gone into more detail at a later time. For now, he needs to find out how long his future bride has had to endure these atrocities.

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Sansa awoke in bed and it took her a moment to remember where she was. When it all came flooding back to her, her surprise didn't lie in the fact that Joffrey was being Joffrey and tormenting her. It didn't even lie in that someone thought what he was doing was wrong.

No, her surprise was that Tywin Lannister saved her.

Now it would have been one thing to save her and hand her off to her maidens or a Maester, but he took care of her himself. Though she hadn't had many conversations with Tywin, she knew by reputation that he was not an emotional man, nor was he overly warm or gentle.

But those were the very things he had been with her. The sensible part of Sansa knows that he wants her to marry into the Lannister family so they can secure the North. She also knows that Tywin Lannister can get anyone to do anything and for him to stay with her said something all on its own.

She tries to roll onto her side, but her body erupts in pain and reminds her of her limitations for the foreseeable future. The muscle aches, the pain in going from sitting to rising or rising to sitting, the fake smile always plastered on - it all got a bit overwhelming at times. She supposed that having the time to rest was a blessing despite how she got here. Or so she was trying to tell herself.

Sansa wonders if once she's healed some if Tywin will send her away and not be around her anymore - their paths never crossed much before. She hopes not, his kindness has been refreshing and he was quite attractive when he was able to be human.

A knock at the door puts her nerves on end. The guards wouldn't have allowed anyone but Tywin, right?

The door cracks open,

"Sansa?"

Tywin's voice calms her instantly,

"Come in."

He enters the room and closes the door behind him. He seems flustered in some way, as though he's just completed a major feat of some kind. He makes his way to her bedside,

"How are you feeling?"

She tries to sit up, but gives up. Her arms are weak and her body too injured. Tywin leans in and helps as he's done before and she mutters a 'thank you' beneath her breath,

"I feel sore. It hurts to move too much too fast."

"You've had quite the amount of grievous pain here recently. And it seems its been happening on more than one occasion."

He sits at the chair by her bedside and continues,

"Tell me, did Joffrey order all of it?"

She's quiet and only barely looking at him. She just now realizes how blue his eyes really are and how easy it would be to get lost in them. Tywin looks her over and can tell Sansa is scared to answer. He imagines that it will take more than one day for her to believe she can trust him. He tries his hand at patience towards the woman, then speaks again,

"Sansa. I know it's difficult to trust someone right now, but please know I will not do any harm to you. All I ask is for honesty."

She nods at his words,

"I don't know who ordered all of it. Yes, I am sure Joffrey did but that's not to say Cersei didn't either. In truth, the only thing I know is that people repeatedly hurt me and it causes joy for those who don't like me. For those who think I am a traitor because my father was. For those who care nothing about me but just want to see me put to death."

Her voice is strong for the most part, but shakes at the end. Tywin admires her focus on appearing strong in front of him - despite the fact he just helped her sit up in bed. He thinks it may be a bad idea to say what he's about to, but he feels more strongly that she deserves to know,

"Well, you're right about Joffrey. He had certain members of his guard around just for inflicting pain on you for his enjoyment. They have since been put to death. Cersei, though she claims she never encouraged Joffrey, she also knew and never stopped him. I obviously cannot put her to death so there is still work be done in regards to that. No one within these walls will hurt you without dying immediately thereafter. I can promise you that."

He gives her a moment to take in what he's said - and she smiles. A true, wide, happy smile. It's the first time he's ever seen Sansa smile with meaning and it's also the first time she made his heart flutter. Tywin smiles back at her and in a flash she has gotten out of bed, making Tywin rise, and she is hugging him,

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't know how else to say thank you."

She's tripping over her words and she can barely hold herself up - but her appreciation is genuine and even Tywin can feel that. Running his hands up and down her back while she clings to him from joy,

"Well, lets get you back in bed so I can go over a few more things with you."

Tywin almost dances with her and he walks her backward and sits her on the bed while he sits beside her,

"Sansa, you know you have to be married. And you know you need to be married to a Lannister. Tyrion would not make a good enough suitor and everybody else is too stupid to treat you properly."

It's not lost on her where he's going with this - Tywin is going to say he thinks they should marry.

"What is your suggestion Tywin?"

"I think it would be best if we married. The Lannisters would secure the North and the heirs we would have would be able to continue the family name, including at Winterfell. We would wait until you've healed, of course."

This was the moment when Sansa was supposed to say something but she didn't know what that would be. He was considerate enough to put her healing above their marriage and they were far worse suitors out there for her. If Sansa had to tell you why she trusted this man - she couldn't give you an answer. Something in her just told her to let go and believe that he would be the best for her. After-all, he hasn't let her down yet,

"It would be an honor marry you Tywin."

He smiles a genuine smile and nods,

"It will be done once you've healed. We can arrange things until then. Now, there is something else as well."

He puts his arm around her and pulls her in close. This wasn't going to be the fun conversation so he wanted her to know that he wasn't mad at her - just concerned. She leans into the warmth of his chest and waits for him,

"You have grown quite thin in your time here. I've spoken your handmaidens and they tell me you are eating very little, if at all. Yet they also say you have never had a complaint about the food,"

Sansa almost burrows her head into his chest further - not wanting to have this conversation at all - and refuses to look at him or even respond. Tywin leans close to her ear as he says,

"What's going on, hmm?"

She knows it's a serious conversation and she knows she should be focusing on what he's asking her, but his hot breath on her ear like that and how good it felt was all Sansa could think about. This man, the most regal of the Lannisters, is holding her and whispering into her ear and that's all that matters.

"Sansa? Look at me."

Sansa pulls away from Tywin and he cups her face with his hand,

"What's going on? Why aren't you eating?"

It is unnerving how calm and patient he is with her. For the first time, Sansa feels that someone truly cares and doesn't just see her as some 'Stark girl'. That doesn't, however, make the words any easier to say,

"Eating is the only thing I'm in control of. I may not get to decide when dinner is or what dinner is or who attends and so on. But I get to decide how much I consume and how much space I take up. As things around here got worse I wanted to disappear. I didn't even want to go back home at that point I just wanted to go away and not been seen by anyone. And it appeared that starving was the easiest way to do that without being noticed. Or so I thought. I never thought someone would truly care enough to notice."

In all of his years Tywin had never seen a woman so strong yet so tortured and twisted by what others had done. Instead of lashing out, she lashed inward, and destroyed herself without bringing any attention. She knew the game and what's more is that she knew how to play it. The smiles, the curtsies, the game of politics - Sansa knew it all. Had he not seen her in her small clothes Tywin wouldn't have suspected anything, in the same way no one else would have.

It was more than wanting to marry her. It was more than wanting heirs with her. It was his concern for her general well-being that turned his stomach with worry that he hadn't felt in years. If it were anybody else Tywin wold resume his usual methods of shouting and barking and so forth. Sansa, however, needed gentleness and she needed patience - which were things he could give. Still cupping her face in his palm,

"I care. I care about you and I care about our future together. I cannot lose you Sansa. You're intelligent and beautiful and strong and I need you. Tell me what it is you need to stop this disappearing act and it will be done."

Sansa took a breath, adoring how her head felt in the palm of his hand. She leaned into it and Tywin traces her cheek with his thumb. HIs hands are almost ironically soft for the life he leads and she loves knowing this and feeling this. It seems so surreal and yet so wonderful all at the same time,

"I need to feel safe Tywin and I'm afraid I'll never feel safe at King's Landing."

He takes his hand away from her face and holds her hand instead. She spoke the words softly but it doesn't take away the fact that her fear is very real. It also doesn't take away the fact that he's been ignoring her reality for far too long.

"We will let you heal and then we will marry. Once we've married, we will go to Casterly Rock where I believe you will feel far safer. In the meantime, I will assign guards to you. I will pick the men to protect you and they will be with you day and night. Sansa, do you feel safe with me?"

Tywin had a surprising idea but he needed to know how Sansa felt first,

"Yes I do. I know I can't explain why but when you're with me I feel safe and I feel protected."

She had no idea where he was going with this - Sansa was just hoping he would take her with him wherever it lead,

"Well, if you feel safe with me would you be willing to eat with me? If perhaps you now have a reason for not wanting to disappear, that is."

It sounds too easy, too simple. It couldn't be that simple. Could it?

"I can't make any promises but I would be willing to try."

Sansa is overwhelmed with emotion and it shows in her voice - which cracks on her last few words. She hugs him and he hugs her back - but she scares him. Holding her like this Tywin can truly feel how frail she has become and he doesn't like it. There's barely any meat to her and it hurts his heart. He needs to tell the chefs to add some desserts to her meals, lemon cakes especially.

He pulls back from their hug - just enough to look into her eyes - and in her eyes he finds hope. It warms him and makes him smirk ever so slightly.

Tywin leans in to give her a kiss and Sansa accepts eagerly. This kiss goes deeper than their last one as Sansa lets go of his hands and runs her fingers through his hair. He groans into her mouth and slowly pulls her closer to him, his hands gently sliding down her back. She wraps her arms around him and completely pulls him into her chest, her breasts rubbing against him and he breaks the kiss and trails his mouth down to her neck, kissing and biting all the way.

Tywin wants to lie her down and hold her and keep kissing her and exploring her. But in the back of his mind he knows she's not ready for that and he won't put her into a position she wouldn't approve of. Joffrey has done far too much of that already.

Sansa's head rolls back giving Tywin more access to her neck and she hears herself moan - what he was doing just felt too good to stay quiet. He chuckles against her neck, hands sliding down her back, supporting her as she arches into him silently begging for more.

She tries to pull him to her to get him to lie down on top of her so they can continue - but he doesn't budge. Instead Tywin pulls her into him once again and takes her mouth in a fiery kiss that leaves both of them stealing breath from the other. Her mouth is tender and wanting and it's everything and more for Tywin.

After a few moments he breaks their kiss and holds her close. They're each out of breath and wanting more but now is not the time. Tywin feels himself slipping, he feels himself beginning to truly develop feelings for Sansa and he can't quite tell if that's a good thing or not. But what he does know is that he doesn't want it to stop. He wants this passion between them to last for as long as possible and Tywin will do whatever means nessceary to make that happen,

"I need to check your bandages and I also have milk of the poppy for you."

Sansa nods, recognizing that he's thought of everything. He changes her bandages and does so tenderly but she still winces at the application of the salve. Tywin gets her back to a comfortable position in bed,

"You rest and when I return, we'll eat. Alright?"

"Alright."

The mood is light and calm - a refreshing pace for the lion that seemingly always roars. Sansa continues,

"Thank you Tywin. For everything."

He leans in smiling and kisses her tenderly then walks to the door, stopping with his hand on the handle,

"I'll return shortly my little wolf."

Tywin leaves and Sansa closes her eyes in bed - feeling like a real person for the first time in a long time.

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There will be a part three! Please review!


	3. One Pack

_Author's Note:_

 _Thank you for your patience, I know this chapter took longer than the last. A lot of you have reviewed (thank you!) and a few have mentioned the red wedding. I've been back and forth on whether or not to include it, and i've come to a decision. I will post an epilogue including my spin on the red wedding if you all review and request it. :)_

 _If not, this story in complete with this chapter. Regardless, thank you all for the love and attention you have given this story. It is very appreciated. :)_

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Cersei absolutely hated it - the Stark girl needed to not be the key to the North but she was.

So here they were. Yet another Lannister wedding to plan for political gain.

Tyrion was surprised though he shouldn't have been. It was a great political move for his father and for the family name. Tyrion also knew his father wouldn't harm Sansa - that would only cause problems and Joffrey caused enough all on his own.

Joffrey - perhaps for the only time in his life - was quiet on the matter. Something all were grateful for.

././././././././././.

One week after Tywin finding her, Sansa was slowly getting back to her usual habits. She had been returned to her own room, Tywin feeling satisfied with the amount of healing that had progressed that even the stupidest of handmaidens couldn't screw it up, and was beginning to return to her old routine.

The dressmakers were constantly in and out in preparation for the wedding. They were measuring and remeasuring all the time - Sansa hadn't put on very much weight at all. Which was a constant topic of discussion between her and Tywin.

Feeling the need to get a moment of peace from all the planning of the wedding, Sansa decides to talk a walk through the gardens. With only her guardsmen with her she finds joy in the quiet, if nothing else. A slow and steady pace is refreshing for both the lack of walking in recent days and for the mental clarity she was hoping to gain.

A few minutes later she hears a familiar voice behind her,

"Lady Sansa."

She turns,

"Lord Tyrion, how lovely to see you."

"And you as well. May I walk with you?"

Sansa nods and they return to her slow pace, side by side.

"I hear congratulations are in order for you and my father."

Sansa smiles with hands folded in front of her stomach,

"Yes I suppose those they are. It seems as though weddings always put people in a rush."

Tyrion hears her steady voice, surprised that she's not as forced and monotoned as she was when she was claiming her loyalty to King Joffrey,

"They do. Everybody wants to be able to say that were involved which means everybody has to be involved. How do you feel about this marriage?"

Sansa knew the question was coming though she didn't didn't imagine it would arrive so quickly,

"I think it will be wonderful marriage. The Lannisters will secure the North. There will be Lannister heirs. All th-"

"Sansa, I asked what you feel. Not what the strategy is."

They keep walking, Sansa smiles at Tyrion's calling her out on bypassing his question,

"I feel that this marriage has more hope than the last. I feel that there is the possibility of love and respect with this marriage."

They come to a part in the path with benches and decide to sit. Tyrion sees that she's tiring easily but says nothing of it,

"My father is not always a loving and respectful man. What gives you this hope so early on?"

"I know he is Hand of the King. I know he has been quite evil to you. I know he is hoping this marriage will help him with my brother Robb. Lord Tywin is a methodical and cunning man and every move he makes is to serve the Lannister family well. And yet I am not afraid when I am with him. He has done nothing that has lead me to believe he will harm me. Am I a fool for thinking this? Perhaps. But until he does something that makes me think he is untrustworthy, I will take him as my husband and pray to the Seven for the best."

Her voice is passionate and determination strong. Tyrion's usual go to is humor to lighten the mood, but her words don't stink him as ones that need levity,

"Why Sansa Stark, you sound just like your mother."

Sansa blushes and his words remind her how much she misses her mother,

"Now, let us continue our walk. If I go too long without wine I become an even more bitter little man."

Tyrion hops off the bench and offers Sansa his hand to help her rise. She takes it thankfully and they continue on. Once returned indoors, Tyrion wishes her well and takes her hand,

"Lady Sansa, may the Gods be good to you and my father. I wish you all the happiness in the world. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask."

He kisses her hand,

"Thank you Lord Tyrion, your kindness is very much appreciated."

Footsteps are heard in the great hall and are preceded by the lions voice,

"Lord Tyrion, I believe she has been promised to another."

Sansa and Tyrion smile,

"Yes Father she has been. And I trust you two will have great happiness together."

Tywin stands beside his future bride before continuing,

"Yes I believe we will."

Tyrion nods and goes one way while Tywin and Sansa turn to go another,

"How are you feeling Sansa?"

They head down the stone hall slowly,

"Sore. Slow moving but ready to get things back to normal. Or as normal as they can be. I needed a break from all the women running circles around me in anticipation of the wedding."

Tywin chuckles, knowing all too well that the woman can be overwhelming when a wedding is upcoming,

"Did you have a good conversation with Tyrion?"

"Yes, he wishes us happiness."

Tywin nods and as they continue walking, he places his hand on the small of her back. He'd been watching her closely the past week and though he knew it was a small window of time, he hadn't seen her gain any weight. Feeling her now he knows he's accurate,

"Have you been trying to eat?"

"Trying yes. I'm hoping I'll have more success after the wedding."

Tywin nods, thinking that once they've married and the world knows she's his, the worry of not being safe will ease from her mind.

"The wedding will be upon us in no time at all. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

They've arrived at her chamber door, the guardsmen stopping a respectable distance away, and Sansa nods and looks up at him smiling,

"Yes My Lord."

Tywin nods and leans down and kisses her gently. He ensures she's in her room before turning on his heel and heading back to work.

././././././././././.

Everyone's rushing, everyone's preparing, so much to be done on wedding day. The morning woke Sansa with a renewed energy - she will marry someone she doesn't despise and actually has a respect for. That's exciting all on its own.

Her handmaidens help to ensure everything is going along properly. Her hair hanging down long and vibrant, her makeup applied just heavily enough to make a special occasion but not overdone.

They have wine and talk and laugh and the preparation is wonderful. Sansa thinks this is how life is supposed to feel.

Tywin's preparation takes much less time and much less fuss. He has a gift for his new bride and he notices he keeps checking his chest pocket to make sure it's there. The sept is filled with people wanting to watch the new couple become one and Tywin realizes just how long its been since he's done this.

The time has come for the Stark to become a Lannister.

Her gown is a beautiful cream with delicate detailing trailing from her high neckline all the way down to her waist - little sparkly jewels hitting the light every way she turns.

When she enters the sept and everyone turns to look at her as she begins her walk down the aisle, she is overwhelmed with emotion - but not like before. This time she's not afraid, she's hopeful and almost excited.

Slowly walking with her heels clicking on the stone floor, she sees Cersei and Tyrion, Joffrey and Margarey, among many others. Some only faces she recognizes and names she's forgotten. She also sees Tywin up ahead and he has a slight smirk on his face. Praying to the Seven her entire walk that she doesn't fall, Sansa hopes this marriage will be the best thing for her. And if not that the Gods will guide her to what is.

She reaches the alter and with her and Tywin standing before the sept, the ceremony begins.

"You may cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

More meaningful words she perhaps have never been spoken in light of recent events. Tywin removes her cloak from House Stark and replaces it with the vibrant red and gold of House Lannister, watching her face while he does it. He sees peace in her eyes and it gives him comfort.

She's been put through hell and he knows it. Tywin also knows that now that she's a Lannister she'll be put through more. But with the heart of a direwolf and the backing of the Lannisters, he knows Sansa will be alright. He dared any man, woman, or being to prove him wrong.

The Septon begins again,

"My Lords, my Ladies, we stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."

Tywin and Sansa stand side by side and he takes her hand. The Septon places the ribbon around both of their hands and begins to tie it into a knot,

"Let it be known that Tywin of House Lannister and Sansa of House Stark are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of all the Seven I hereby seal these two souls binding them together for eternity."

With the words finished, the Septon unties the ribbon then continues,

"Look upon each other and say the words."

Tywin and Sansa look at each other, knowing what they need to say. They speak in unison, naming off all of the Seven.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,"

Then, altering for each referencing the other they continue,

"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,

I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

The words are heavy in meaning but flow easily from both of them. Sansa took a deep breath, knowing that in just a few more words and a kiss, she would be respected and revered as a Lannister. The thought was new and different and yet it was of some odd comfort for her.

Tywin speaks,

"With this kiss I pledge my love."

He leans down and kisses his bride - gently - and the kiss is returned the same fashion that it was given. It goes on a little longer than Sansa expected but she was of no complaints. They break the kiss and turn to the audience, who begins to applaud for them. Taking her hand, Tywin takes them both down the aisle and away from the crowd before the feast begins.

Tywin shuts the door behind them and they hear the mutterings and rumblings of excited people heading to the great hall for the feast.

For some reason, Sansa feel out of breath but she doesn't understand why Tywin's guided them into this room,

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I wanted to give you something."

Tywin reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a small box - delicately wrapped with twine - and handset to Sansa.

She takes it,

"Thank you."

Opening the box, she opens it to reveal a beautifully detailed gold direwolf head necklace. Elegant and yet strong it's the perfect weight, the fine details absolutely exquisite,

"It's beautiful."

"The direwolf may be your old house cigdel, but it is who you are. Now that you are a Lannister it is time you are recognized for both. I cannot expect you to forget where you came from but I do expect you to see who you are now,"

He takes the necklace from her hands and walks behind her as Sansa lifts her hair. Tywin places it around her neck and clasps it,

"I believe we will be happy Sansa."

Tywin turns her around and kisses her gently, hoping that there would be easier times ahead for both of them.

./././././././.

They are welcomed at the feast among many smiling faces. Seated behind the banquet table, many courses of food are served and the music is pleasant and dancing has begun. Cersei is sulking a few seats down but for the moment she seems content to keep her mouth shut. If Sansa were being honest, it wasn't Cersei she was worried about making a scene. No, that concern was laid solely at Joffrey's feet.

Her safety didn't worry her it was the potential humility from the King that had her holding her breath,

"Are you feeling alright?"

Tywin's voice snaps Sansa out of her daze, looking at him she nods quickly then returns to looking down t her plate,

"If you're worried about the King I can assure you he won't try anything."

"How can you be so sure?"

He leans in close with his voice lowered,

"Because there are some things even he knows would not end well for him."

Sansa allows a small smile and tried to busy herself with watching everyone dance and feast and talk. Looking around this room, it's hard to believe that this is where Sansa ended up. She was so naive and so infatuated with Joffrey that, for a time, this was the only place she wanted to be.

Then when Joffrey's true sadistic side was revealed all Sansa wanted to do was run to be as far away from King's Landing as possible.

Though it took her a little longer than it should have, Sansa eventually realized that King's Landing seemed to be the place she would never escape. Which also meant she had to learn how to play the Lannister game. She had to be cunning and intelligent and poise and perfect and all the things she could be to survive this land of politics and secrets.

Now that she's married a Lannister the stakes are even higher. Now Sansa has to continue to be all those same things - because she is a Lannister and has to carry that family name with respect.

The evening continues on and when it came time for the bedding ceremony, Tywin stood up with Sansa by his side, silenced the room with a single glare, and the new couple walked out. There would be no traditional bedding ceremony and no one dared try to change that decision.

Walking down the hall, they turn into Tywin's chambers and Sansa feels an excited kind of nervous.

She sits on the bed and watches Tywin taking off all of the ceremonial pieces he need no longer wear. Sansa would expect them to make love tonight, but she couldn't be sure,

"Did you enjoy the evening?"

Sansa clears her throat,

"Yes I did. I wasn't expecting so many people though."

Tywin sits beside her,

"Yes people love to watch other live out their lives, don't they?"

He takes a deep breath and rubs his face, feeling tired,

"I know you're still bruised and I know you're still not completely healed. We'll wait for the bedding until you're back to normal."

Tywin rises and takes off his remaining clothes, Sansa takes the cue and begins to do the same.

Both in their small clothes, Tywin climbs into bed and pulls the sheets beck for her to get in beside him. This is the first time they've ever been in bed together and Sansa is quietly grateful for his patience. The pressure women feel on their wedding night is too much and serves no good purpose.

Tywin pulls her in close,

"Sleep now little wolf. No one will harm you here."

The gravely tone and the warmth in his arms was all it took for Sansa to fall asleep, praying that this man would continue to be good to her.

./././././.

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